Next morning, before the sun rose, they started marching for the Spring. At first the sky was one flat sheet of dull gray. Then, at the edge of the horizon, it warmed to shades of yellow, like there was a little candle flame burning just out of sight. Ruyi thought it was the sunrise—then she realized it wasn't nearly so bright. She could stare into it without her eyes watering; it had a soft brightness, like a ruddier moon.

They got closer and she saw it was too long to be a moon, and it didn't have the clean boundaries of a moon, which rose stark against the night. It might have been a moon seen through thick clouds, its light diffusing, all muffled.

"Is that the spring?" gasped Ruyi. "It's so big!"

The edges of its mist rose so high they kissed the clouds. She thought for a moment Darius would make fun of her. She braced for it. Whenever she let out real feelings like this, he always took a chance to poke at her. Darius always treated whatever she was angry, happy, or awed about as no big deal, really—only something a dummy like Ruyi would make a fuss over.

But for once he didn't do that. He was staring too. “Can you feel it?” he murmured.

“Feel what?”

“The heat of it,” Darius said. Ruyi didn’t. Not until she closed her eyes, let go of everything else, and really noticed. And she did—not with her skin but with her soul, with her channels. It warmed her insides, and the closer they got, the warmer she felt.

They all grew quiet, soaking it in. Even the children, whose laughing and howling could be heard at almost all hours of the day, were stunned. It wasn’t the sunrise but it felt like it—like seeing the first glimmer of morning after a long, dark night; something about it swelled the heart. Ruyi saw Aelia cradling a stack of wood blocks under her arm, dashing here and there, frantically chipping away.

Sabina slapped Ruyi on the back. “Breathe with me," she said. She took a deep breath, waited for Ruyi to do the same, and they both breathed out slowly.

“Ah!” sighed Sabina. “I could hardly sleep last night. Could you?”

“No,” said Ruyi.

“Mm. Too much energy, no? I got up to do an hour of forms, but I still could not calm myself down. This will be glorious. Today is our day. I can feel it!”

As it happened, Ruyi also hardly slept last night. And she was also thinking about what they'd find down in the Springs. She wondered how Sabina could feel so much joy at it. Sabina only seemed happiest when she was close to danger. But the closer they got, the worse Ruyi felt.

Nobody else seemed scared like her. And she wasn't used to feeling scared like this anyway—she wondered if there was something wrong with her. Usually she was always up for an adventure, even a scary one. She figured it was because she wasn't used to working in a team. She was too busy worrying about whether everyone else would be okay to feel happy.

Sometimes she thought she'd be better off on her own. Then she wouldn't have to worry about everyone else all the time. But she tried being alone, and she knew she couldn't bear it either. Was she just never meant to be happy?

She groaned. This was exactly why you couldn’t leave her alone too long—she’d start thinking strange things.

By the time the real sun rose, it was like they'd stepped into a realm of curling yellow mist. The essence was so thick here it was corporeal; you could feel it on your skin, a tingling humidity. The children were laughing again. She saw a dragon-horned boy playing a peekaboo game, hiding behind thick clumps as the other children wafted them away, trying to find him. She shook her head. If children could be happy, she could be too. She tried doing as Sabina did; she put a smile on her face. I’m happy. I’m happy!

One of the children saw her smiling, screamed, and ran away.

“Eh?”

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“Lula, you look like you’re plotting a murder,” said Darius.

“…” She couldn’t think of a good reply, so she just punched him and went back to moping.

It was odd seeing so much movement, seeing the geyser of essence shoot up before her, and hearing no sound. It was like it existed with a foot in this world, and one foot in another. Trapped in the in-between. She supposed that was where they were going.

They came up to the origins. It must have been some giant hole in the ground, but there was so much essence rising out of it she couldn't make out its edges. But the scouts had gone ahead and mapped out the route, and this was where it was. Drusilla gathered them all before it.

“In the demonlands, we are alone,” she said. “When Octavius overextended, when his hubris got the better of him, we punished him. We seized his territory and made it our own. Do not imagine he is happy with this; nor do you know how his allies are either. Do not imagine he will forget this. Octavius is a hungry man. He is a spiteful man. Even now, they are raiding their springs, gathering treasures there, cultivating there, growing stronger. We must not show weakness. We must do the same. It is a matter of self-preservation.”

She paused, and her flat, cold gaze swept over them, making them shiver. “Remember that power is a matter of protection. These next few days are the most important of our year. So, warriors! Train tirelessly. Slaughter these hell demons, eat their flesh, and grow strong. Brewers! Gather your baskets, gather your vials, for there is flora here that you shall never encounter elsewhere, flora that has bathed in Hell's waters for millennia.”

Claudia and Ruyi had discussed this. The main bottleneck for their production of Ruyi’s Elixirs was that they couldn’t find a good replacement for red ginseng in the Demonlands - but the Springs had netherworts growing within, a substance that could not only replace it but make her elixirs nearly twice as strong. She could get a little excited about that, at least.

“Smiths!” Drusilla continued. “Within, you shall find Stygian iron—that steel which never rusts, which can withstand the blows of a demon king. I expect to leave with sleds laden with them. And lore keepers—of course, there is no greater trove of great relics than the lost empire of Ignatius.”

Her expression softened. Ruyi rarely ever saw Drusilla smile. It was like the muscles of her face weren't made to bend that way. Usually her expression could have been a mask cast out of iron, but right now her lips drew flat, and a surprising warmth came through in her eyes; it was in the crinkles at the corners, Ruyi thought. She looked like Mother did sometimes.

“Lastly,” she said softly, “remember who you are. You are of the Frigus tribe. You are family. Our hearts beat as one. Remember who you live for. For the tribe!”

The scouts went in first. Their arts mapped out the rooms, tested for traps, and when they were satisfied, they emerged from the mists and nodded. And so the Frigus tribe poured in and forged into the murky depths.

***

The children were not the only ones who realized that the mists made for good cover. A raven, colored a dark yellow, drifted in a patch of mist, its feathers matching the exact shade of the mists. But it was playing a different game. Its heartbeat was so faint it seemed a dead thing, but it was not dead. Its eyes were open, and it watched as the last of the tribe went in.

Then it swerved and headed due west.

***

Past that first huge bank of fog, the air opened up, so that only the ground up to their ankles was shrouded in a layer of thick, snaking mists. Rue had wondered why they brought no torches. Then she saw the first cavern. The first thing that struck her was the sheer size of it—it went so far out, it seemed to have its own horizon. She could barely make out its far walls from the twinkling. The twinkling was everywhere. At first, she thought it came from the stone itself—but it was actually a layer of sleek obsidian crystals crusted over the stone, glowing faintly. She was nearly 40 strides under the ceiling, and she still felt them beating down on her like the sun on the hottest day of summer, hot in the same way the mists were, only more.

They must be scalding. She could tell why the warriors and initiates were so excited to come here; to cultivate under those lights must be like drinking dozens of high-grade essence potions.

This room was mostly empty; she heard their steps echoing eerily through the vast space. She felt like they'd stepped into the mouth of some sleeping beast—the crystals could’ve been rows and rows of teeth. She could barely make out a blocky shape against the far wall; she saw it when she neared—a statue with its head lopped off, its open mouth stuffed with purple vines, as though it were choking on them. Vines ran down its face like trails of tears.

“King Ignatius," grunted Rufus. He huffed out a breath. “We're here!”

Late last night, after flopping around for a few hours, Ruyi decided to go to Darius. She figured if she asked him some questions about the Springs, got to know what it was actually like, maybe she'd be less scared of it. Then when she got near his tent, she heard strange noises, saw a second shadow shifting on top of his, and stomped away, burning. She promised herself she’d never speak to him again, a promise she promptly forgot about.

After she settled down a bit, she went to Livia. Livia always made time for her, even in the middle of the night, and she patiently answered Ruyi's questions. So Ruyi knew that this statue meant they were at the borders of Ignatius' empire. Beyond it, there was an entrance wide enough for a dozen demons to stride through side by side, and a crumbling, pocked stone staircase leading deeper…